Freedom's Flight
by TARDISbluu
Summary: Harry enjoying one of his flights as a new Animagus. Just a random one-shot that my fingers were itching to write. Oh - and forget that Sirius died... or anything stressful happened around that time. And anything else canon I might've forgotten. Call this AU. Animagus!Harry, Griffin!Harry, Living!Sirius


**Disclaimer: All applicable rights go to J.K. Rowling and whoever the heck else can legally claim Harry Potter... I don't own a single fraction of it.**

The air was rushing past his ears and over his wings as he pounded them up and down, high in the sky. A glorious feeling of freedom rushed through his being as he flew. Nothing could stop him or distract him up here. There was no aunt to berate him, no uncle to scowl, and no cousin to snigger. It was just him, Hedwig, and the occasional insect.

He laughed in his roaring laugh, and performed an incredibly exhilarating dive towards the ground, his paws curled against his chest, wings furled close to his back, and his tail fringe of feathers spread out, ready to catch him when he pulled up.

He waited 'til the absolute last second, maybe 500 feet the tips of the trees, before snapping his wings out and whipping his tail down towards the ground. He could feel the muscles of back, tail, and wings straining under the force of his fall, before he actually slowed enough to begin flapping again, going back up.

He laughed again, because he had missed the treetops by a mere foot of clearance, frightening the little woodland creatures below half out of their wits. He soared back up, forever glad that he had been able to master his Animagus transformation. It had taken him two and half years – he had started on it right after freeing Sirius with Hermione – but he had finally done it.

He was an Animagus. And he was a damn incredible one, too. He wasn't sure how normal it was for a wizard to have a magical creature form – he hadn't seen it in any of the books he read – but he knew it must be special.

He was a griffin! A real, honest-to-Merlin griffin! When he transformed, he stood at about 3 feet high at his shoulders, and about 3 and half feet high if you counted the wings on his back, which were a spread of about 15 feet across, and 3 feet wide at their widest point. His fur was a deep golden-brown, which faded into black through the feathery mane on his head. He had a thin, black stripe running horizontally down his back and tail, into a dark brown and black feather fringe at the tip, instead of a tuft. There was also a spot on the end of each of his toes, where his claws would come out. His beak, which still had a small set of teeth on the inside, was the color of ivory at the tip, which faded into grey and black at the base.

All in all, he looked fearsome, bold, proud, and cute at the same time. He had thought it was ironic that he was a griffin, when he had been so close to being sorted into the Slytherin House, until he had read the characteristics of a griffin.

Wild griffins were intelligent and proud, yet they were fairly peaceable creatures, choosing to avoid confrontation and people in general. But there was one thing that always were, and that was protective. The male griffin was fiercely protective of their mates, cubs, and even griffins that they took under their wing. While they wouldn't necessarily sacrifice themselves for one of their "protégés" – though some would, in fact, even do this – they would let themselves be killed protecting their families without a second consideration.

In this, Harry was definitely like a griffin. People said he had a hero complex, but the truth was, he just couldn't stand seeing someone hurting or in danger of being hurt. So he helped them to the best of his ability.

Harry was now gently gliding through the air, looking down at the countryside below. He always made sure to walk to this place before transforming for a fly. The nearest street was about 2 miles away, on the ground, and it wasn't very busy. Not to mention there were trees pressed close on both sides of it, and Harry flew high enough – unless he was diving – that people would likely think him a bird, even if they did get a glimpse.

He took a deep breath of the crisp, clean air around him. He loved it up here. He was only ever able to fly about half an hour, since it was a fairly long walk back to Privet Drive, but it was always worth it. He couldn't wait to tell Sirius about his transformation. He hadn't told him before, when he was learning it, because he didn't want to get his hopes up, and then fail. Perhaps this was foolish, as Sirius could have given him tips, but it was too late now. He did it.

He didn't want to tell Sirius over a letter, though. He wanted to show him in person. He couldn't wait to see his face! He also hadn't told Hermione or Ron. Ron, because he couldn't keep a secret and his parents finding out would be a nightmare, and Hermione because he didn't want her fussing over the "fact" that he shouldn't be doing it, or worrying about him hurting himself.

Harry sighed. He didn't want to go, but he knew he needed to. He started the gentle, circling glide back down the ground. When he neared the tops of the trees, he found a good gap between two, and came to a stop, flapping his wings, before lowering himself to the forest floor. He started at a trot in the direction of the street, still transformed. He would get there quicker this way.

_Tomorrow, I go to Grimmauld, I'll see Sirius, and I'll show him my transformation._ This cheered him up, greatly. He could hardly wait.

_As long as I can have these occasional moments of freedom and fun, Voldemort and the Dursleys can bother me all they want. This makes it completely worth it._

**AN – Song listened to was Touch the Sky, Brave Sountrack.**

**No beta, and not even a second reading. Just a random plot bunny-thought-thing I had. My fingers were itching for the keyboard… Sorry for any grammatical errors spelling mistakes, "plot" holes (like there's totally a plot for this), or clichés. **


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